


Fears

by Goodneighbor_Neighbor (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [6]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mind Manipulation, Rape, Sexualized Violence, The violence is a hallucination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24000622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Goodneighbor_Neighbor
Summary: While dealing with the mess at Parsons, the Sole gets hit with a lot of terror, and Hancock gets his feelings hurt because of it.  After time and a big bottle of wine, they manage to make up.
Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727050
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Fears

Yvette’s temper was clearly about to turn on Lab Coat, and after the last ten minutes in his company, Hancock was _sorely_ tempted to let her. Asking a guy trying to hold his guts in if he was _sure_ he couldn’t just jump up and help? That was _some_ boss right there. “Just leave the stuff ‘Vet, I’ll get him started and be hot behind you.” Hancock said, putting his hand on her shoulder as she muttered something that ended with a coughy ‘con!’. He was pretty sure that meant ‘asshole’, at this point. She used it a lot under her breath, usually when spotting Raiders or dealing with some of the real crap traders.

The ghoul--Deegan--nodded. “Go--I’ll be ok, I will. _You_ gotta keep an eye on Jack now, ‘till I get up.”

“Just take care _Edward_ , ok?” she replied, squeezing his hand and then looking up at Hancock. “And you too _‘Ancock_?”

“Hey, we already did the hard part, him and me are the only ones alive up here.” Hancock pointed out. He nudged her shoulder. “Go on, before you lose the dweeb.”

Yvette made a face, but edged sideways and then sprang to her feet to run after Cabot. She’d left stimpacks and bandages behind.

Hancock knelt down, picking up a roll. “Gut shot?” he asked.

“At least a barrel and a half, right under the chest plate.” Deegan groaned. “Nothing too deep but it hurts like a sonofabitch.”

“I got something to take care of that _real_ quick.” Hancock replied, going into his coat for some Med-X. Traveling with a girl that people liked to shoot at, he was having to carry a little more than he usually did.

“Friend’a’hers?” Deegan asked as he tilted his head and let Hancock pop the shot in his neck; it got to the brain faster that way, made ignoring the pain a lot easier.

“Yeah, something like that.” Hancock muttered, helping Deegan take off the chest plate and opening his shirt, surveying the damage. “Hey, been shot worse than this on a morning after.” he kidded, pressing bandages into the bleeding before popping the other ghoul with two stimpacks. “You a friend’a’hers too?”

“Yeah,” Deegan grunted as the drugs went to work, “something like that.”

By the time Hancock got all the way down to the Lab Coat and the Vaulter, she was running around on the other side of some glass and he was jumping up and down shouting instructions.

“Hurry! You’ve got to hurry, the containment field won’t hold Lorenzo much longer!”

“What the _shit_ is going on here?!” Hancock demanded. “Why the hell is she in there by herself, the fuck are you doing?”

Lab coat turned on him. “She’s turning on the Abramovich-generators to generate enough interruption to Lorenza’s zeta-waves to--”

“ _English_ pointdexter, speak _English_!” Hancock barked.

“She’s doing what I tell her to kill him so he doesn’t kill us!” Lab Coat yelled back.

Yvette’s head throbbed, pounding worse than it used to when she was pregnant with Shaun. Her stomach roiled, and every step she took closer to the switches got harder and heavier to make.

“You _don’t_ have to do this. You know my son is crazy.” Lorenzo purred. “Just open the door.”

Two switches down, the third in her hand. She couldn’t get a deep breath, and had to use both hands to yank the lever. Just one more, and then she could get out of this room and tell Cabot to go fuck himself on the pointy end of the Devil’s cock, and get her caps, and go far away from this miserable crumbling asylum. Just one. More. Lever.

“Uh oh, Yvette, something _interesting_ is happening.” Lorenzo taunted.

It didn’t dawn on her to ask how he knew her name. Yvette paused on her slow, staggering journey to the last lever and looked over at the observation window. Hancock had made it down to them, but he and Jack were arguing? Yelling and gesticulating wildly…and then Hancock pulled out his pistol and blew Jack’s head off, painting the terminals behind them red and pink with meat and blood. Their eyes met as Hancock jabbed at the main terminal to open the safety doors. Was this Lorenzo’s doing, somehow? Jack had babbled things about psychic powers and Lorenzo’s evil influences; but how in the name of God could he make something like that happen through so many layers of metal and glass?!

“ _Oh_ , he’s coming Yvette, are you _sure_ you wouldn’t rather just open this door and allow _me_ to help you?” Lorenzo cooed.

“ _Allez en enfer, bâtard sans bite!_ _”_ Yvette gasped out as she forced herself to make one lead-weighted step after another towards the fourth switch.

“Oh _dear_ , it seems you’re too late.” Lorenzo said as Yvette felt steely rough fingers dig into her shoulders and yank her backwards. She fell back, cracking her elbow on the tile floor.

“ _’Ancock_ what the hell?!” Yvette yelled as she tried to get her feet planted, to push back and get up; the ghoul mayor was snarling, eyeing her with intense rage and hatred.

“Get over here!” he roared, throwing himself at her and tackling her.

Yvette’s head cracked against the tile this time, leaving her dazed and choking on a sudden surge of bile over the pain. She struggled to hold onto her gun as Hancock grabbed hold of it and pulled; he managed to get a grip on one of her fingers and bent it back so far it surely had to be broken, from the way it hurt and made the rest of her hand spring open.

“Oh _dear_ , dear, _dear._ You _are_ in some other trouble now, aren’t you Yvette?” Lorenzo said, a note of excitement breaking through his monotone.

Hancock, meanwhile, had thrown her gun away and was fighting both her and the buttons on her pants. He lowered his head and bit at them, ignoring her fists bouncing off the top of his head. The buttons broke away and Yvette could feel bruises already blooming on her stomach where he had gotten fabric and skin together in his bites.

“ _’Ancock, ‘Ancock_ listen to me, don’t do this!” she screamed as he grabbed hold of her pants to pull them down.

“Oh yes, do stop.” Lorenzo added drily. “It’s so terrible, what he’s thinking of doing to you Yvette. Would you like to know in advance, or would you rather just let it happen?”

The monotone running commentary behind this assault was such a bizarre insult to her injuries! “Shut your fucking mouth--’ _Ancock_ , I don’t want to hurt you!” Yvette screamed at them both, managing to bring her knee up and twisting enough to jam her heel into Hancock’s cheek. What should have sent him toppling, or at least gotten him to shift enough she could wiggle out from underneath him only seemed to enrage him further; he balled up his fist and bounced it against her face until her nose flattened with a terrible crunch. Yvette couldn’t see for the pain, couldn’t breathe for the blood, and couldn’t get enough coordination together to stop Hancock from ripping her pants and underwear down to her ankles.

“Would you like me to describe him to you? He’s _very_ big.” Lorenzo purred. “It’s going to hurt very much when he puts that great big thing inside of you.”

Yvette coughed, trying to clear her eyes and her throat as Hancock rolled her over onto her stomach and pulled her by the hips back onto her knees. She spat a bloody wad on the ground and looked between her legs just in time to see the most grotesque cock she had ever seen in her life: as long as a missile and as big around as a mini-nuke, colored black and purple like a fresh bruise with great big blisters around the weeping slit. It was an ugly, impossible thing! She clawed at the ground desperately but Hancock’s fingers were digging into her hips so hard she could feel blood starting to run down her thighs from his ragged nails, holding her in place. Then he was shoving that massive, diseased tool inside.

She screamed until she couldn’t; the thing ripped her from front to back, obliterated her cervix, bullying past her womb and her stomach to punch her diaphragm. And yet, she was alive: helpless and frighteningly, grotesquely aware of every thrust; of Hancock’s drool on her back, the swing of his balls.

“Yes, _yes_ my boy! And after you’ve finished, won’t you bring her in to me? It’s been _so_ long since I’ve had a woman’s softness.” Lorenzo purred.

Yvette twitched, still trying to claw away even as Hancock clawed deep runs into her hips and that nasty, massive thing he was shoving inside of her started spurting streams of painfully hot cum. _How_ was she still alive?!

“That’s right, open the door and bring her here. Hold her for me; I want her mouth.” Lorenzo commanded.

Hancock dragged her by the hair, to the door; she couldn’t seem to get her legs to move to kick or push back. Truth be told, save for a crawling, itching, fiery burn she couldn’t feel much of anything from the neck down. Once the door was open, Hancock dragged her into the cell, getting behind her and digging his fingers into her mouth and neck, holding her head in place against his body and leaving her unable to close her mouth.

“I _told_ you to open the door Yvette. You really should have done as I asked.” Lorenzo said by way of greeting as he opened his pants.

Yvette gurgled when she meant to tell him to take his withered old cock and cut it off with scissors; but he must have sensed that from the way he shoved into her mouth, making sure to grind against her swollen, broken nose. But he came mercifully fast with a pitiful little put-put that counted for nothing, especially against what had already happened to her. She managed to laugh at him; one last act of defiance.

“ _Well_ , that was fun, but I have family to visit. Why don’t you two just stay _here_ for a while?” Lorenzo sneered, stepping away from them. Hancock was already throwing her to the floor, this time turning her onto her back before he mounted. “Have _fun_.” he added, stepping out of the room without another glance back.

Yvette tried to will her body back into control, pushing weakly against Hancock with one hand. “’ _Ancock…’Ancock stop…stop…”_ she mumbled.

Suddenly he froze, staring down at her, face a mass of twitches, mouth drooling.

Had she reached him? “ _’Ancock?”_ Yvette whispered.

He snarled as the last of his humanity disappeared into the ink black darkness of his eyes; Yvette screamed as he resumed his thrusts and buried his face in her neck, teeth now digging into her flesh. She was going to die, she was going to die fucked by a ghoul she used to know; the only thing left to do was try to get a hold of something to kill herself with before she felt anything more.

Something smooth and hard hit her wandering hand; Yvette grabbed it and struggled to drag it towards her.

***

“Get that _goddamn door open right now_!” Hancock snarled, pulling out his pistol. Yvette had started screaming and clawing at the last handle, and now she was sitting on the floor in a daze, mouth open slackly.

“The field--” Lab Coat began.

“I will blow your fucking brains out all over these fucking walls.” Hancock barked.

“ _Fine_! Be it on your own head.” Lab Coat sniffed as he tapped away at the terminal.

Hancock threw himself at the doors, not even waiting for them to open fully, sliding through as soon as he could fit. “’Vet! ‘Vet, hey, I’m here ok? I’m here.” he said as he sailed through the room and knelt by her. She looked like hell, like somebody who’d gone on a too-long PsychoBuffJet-Tats bender, just before they keeled over. “Hey-- _’Vet_ c’mon!” He yelled, snapping his fingers in front of her dazed eyes.

When she didn’t clue back in, he slapped her. Just enough to pink her cheek, and it pained him to do it. He’d have to apologize fiercely later.

“ _’Ancock_?” her voice wavered as her eyes snapped back into focus. The pounding in her head had gotten a little better, but Yvette still couldn’t feel her legs, couldn’t puzzle out what of the screaming nerves was real and what wasn’t. “ _Jean?_ ”

“Yeah--yeah it’s me, it’s me ‘Vet. You look like hell, beautiful hell.” The relief was almost as good as a high. Lab Coat had finally tiptoed into the room, and Hancock rounded on him. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with her, what the _fuck_ did you cause?” he demanded.

Jack shrugged, flapping his hands helplessly. “Lorenzo had strong psychic abilities, it’s very possible that in this close proximity he was able to manipulate her perceptions and--”

“The next three words better be the fucking answer or I. Am going. To _shoot_ you.” Hancock swore. He felt a shaky hand on his chest that turned his attention immediately back to Yvette. “Not you, you and me are good--it’s ok beautiful, it’s ok.” he babbled.

Yvette touched his blouse, his lapels, the base of his throat. Those all felt real.

“He made her see things, played with her mind.” Jack groused. One of the many, many downsides of the end of the world was the even greater shortage of people to talk to who _actually_ wanted to learn something.

Rage knotted Hancock’s stomach, hot and dangerous. “I’m takin’ her upstairs, you do whatever the _fuck_ you’re gonna do down here. But when you pay her, you’re paying double. Or--and ya know how _this_ song goes…” Hancock trailed off threateningly.

“Yes, yes; you’ll shoot me.”

“You’re lucky I’m too distracted to do it now.” Hancock snapped, guiding Yvette’s arms around his neck. “It’s ok beautiful, it’s ok; you just hang on to old Hancock, I’m gonna get you upstairs.” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her back and hooking his other arm under her knees.

“ _Jean_?” she said faintly.

“Right here, beautiful; I’m just gonna pick you up and take you back upstairs. We’re gonna go sit with your buddy Deegan, alright? I’m gonna get you outta here.” Hancock huffed, getting to his feet and lifting her fast; his back would probably scream about it tomorrow, but at the moment his adrenaline was running too high to care.

“ _Deegan?”_ Yvette struggled to make sense, shivering. Everything was so _cold_ , except where she was pressed against Hancock.

“Right--serious guy, looks a lot like me, remember?” he tried to joke. “Don’t worry, beautiful; you’ll be ok.” Hancock said as he kicked the button for the elevator, denting the plate around it. Not his elevator, not his problem. It just had to work and he just had to keep his temper.

Deegan was still on the floor where Hancock had left him, startling when the elevator opened and Hancock burst out with Yvette in his arms like a doped bride. “What the _hell_ happened down there?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know, your boss doesn’t fuckin’ shut up to answer shit.” Hancock replied, setting Yvette down beside him. “Did you use all the X?”

“There’s one left, here.” Deegan replied, handing it over. “She shot?”

“No--she was in there with the nut--I mean not _in_ there with the nut, just the room. Threw the switches, started screaming, collapsed and just started shaking all over.” Hancock bit the end cap off and spat it over his shoulder. “Just a little pinch beautiful, that’s all. Trust me, I done this a thousand times.” he said softly, tipping Yvette’s head just a little and tapping his fingers along her swan neck to find a good spot to shoot that wouldn’t tip her from bad to worse.

It burned,and Yvette’s head lolled as she continued to coax her body back into willing control. Hancock was by her, and there was another set of boots beside hers. Her eyes trailed from boots to pants to hands to chest plate to _finally_ realizing who she was sitting next to. “ _Edward_!” she gasped. “You are ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. You and Hancock did me solid.” he tried not to growl too much as he spoke, but it was hard. Deegan’s throat was pretty rad-fried after all. “You ok?”

“I…I don’t know…it was _horrible, Deegan_ …I…he…” she stammered.

“Don’t talk about it, beautiful.” Hancock said.

Yvette turned to look at him. She searched his face, reaching up to touch. To feel the warmth in his cheeks, the shape of his lips that were soft and relaxed, not wrenched back in a drooling snarl. To really settle once and for all that he was still himself.

“Whoa, hey--we haven’t even had a first date.” Hancock tried to joke, pulling away from her touch. Made it easier to look away from her and miss the disappointed, hurt look on her face.

Deegan nodded. “Lorenzo really fucked your mind. It’s ok--it’ll go away in a little bit. Used to do the same thing to me.” he nudged her leg lightly with the back of his hand. “You’re really sittin’ here, ok?”

Yvette sniffed, nodding. “It was awful. He made me think that _‘Ancock_ had lost his mind, made me think he…ahm…hm.” she hesitated.

“Went feral?” Hancock said bitterly. It was always the feral thing with people!

She looked up at him, glaring. “Yes. But not before you _raped_ me. Not before you held my head so _he_ could rape my mouth. Not before you literally broke my back fucking me. _Then_ , then he locked us in his old cell and you started to rape me again before you went feral and started taking chunks out of my neck _while_ you fucked me.”

Hancock flinched at the ferocity in her voice. Maybe it was just part of the hangover, and she didn’t _really_ believe he could do that kind of shit to somebody. If she did…well. Fuck.

Deegan hissed. “Yeah, yeah he was a rapey old bastard. He dead?”

Yvette nodded.

“Good. Be tough on Jack and the family, but…” Deegan shrugged.

“Are you going to be ok?” she asked.

“Have to find a new job after the last one kicks the bucket, but I’m not worrying about it right now. _You_ don’t worry about anything either besides getting your feet back under you, ok? Stick to the now, get yourself oriented again.” He said sagely.

She nodded, leaning back against the file cabinet and closing her eyes.

Hancock moved away from them then, turning his back to take a hit of Jet. Everything slowed down but the anger, but now there was an extra second to push it down. It was his own fault; ‘Vet had been out of the Vault long enough to meet the ghouls that bit and the ones that didn’t, had probably even run into one in the middle of losing his mind somewhere between the Vault and his doorstep in Goodneighbor. Really he should only be pissed with the dead man for putting her through that kind of shit; not her for being (rightfully, the little voice in his head whispered) afraid. Shaking that thought away, he gathered himself; he’d walk Yvette back to Lab Coat’s place, make sure she got paid like she should, then saunter back to Goodneighbor and get absolutely wasted, as was his mayoral right. And he wouldn’t waste another thought on the girl with Atomic Blue™ eyes.

Yvette wound up going with him all the way back to Goodneighbor; Hancock couldn’t really figure out why. If she wanted to apologize, she could’ve done it back at the creep’s house. But he didn’t exactly say no to the suggestion of walking together, so it was on him too. He stopped her just outside the gate though; it’d be embarrassing for the Mayor to get dumped in front of the whole Neighborhood by a gal he wasn’t even fucking with.

“Thank you _‘Ancock--_

He wasn’t going to miss the stupid way she said his name. Not one bit. “Don’t mention it.”

“Wait!” she grabbed his arm.

He wasn’t going to miss the hundreds of times a day she managed to touch him, both on purpose and on (he assumed) accident. “Hey, I get it. I make you nervous now; it’s no big deal, you’re nothing special.” Hancock said, ignoring the massive wave of regret that hit him at the look on her face when he said that.

Yvette gawked at him, stunned. “I never said--”

“It’s fine. Stay outta trouble, kid.” Hancock turned on his heel, pulling away from her touch and going inside the gate. Mugsy had the door today. “Mugs, just wait ‘till you hear about _this_ shit I just got finished doing.” he said, forcing a huge grin on his face. Time to get shit back to normal, after all.

***

The nightmares faded after a few days, leaving just a bitter, hurt feeling behind. ‘Nothing special’? ‘Kid’? Yvette didn’t quite understand how she had managed to hurt Hancock’s feelings so badly, and she couldn’t help but feel it was _excessively_ unfair of him to walk off before she could ask, or explain, or apologize, or anything! She wondered if this, like other times before, was a matter of language. The wrong word, or someone hearing what they think is the wrong word, had resulted in such headaches for her before, after all. She resolved that the next time she set foot in Goodneighbor, she would get an explanation somehow…as long as it didn’t involve getting shot.

It just so happened that the next time she was in Goodneighbor was to take a murderer’s brain apart. After dropping off the strange little thing she’d prized out of Kellog’s smashed head to Doctor Amari, Yvette mused on what to do. Nick had promised to meet her there in a couple of days, after he settled a couple of small cases back in Diamond City, and the good doctor welcomed the time to try and process what she’d been given. She’d rented a room for the next couple of days, and besides a few pointed looks, no one in Goodneighbor seemed set to chase her out. However, they also didn’t seem too inclined to tell her where Hancock was. For a Ghoul in a bright red frock coat, he was being surprisingly elusive. Yvette decided to take herself to the Third Rail; if nothing else, she could have a drink and a bite to think on.

Ham was at the door, as usual, and as usual he didn’t look happy. “Oh. It’s _you_.” he said. “Surprised to see you back.” Like he didn’t already know that; Mugsy had already poked his head in and given the heads-up while she’d been making her way to the Den. Ham was on alert, ready to bounce her right out.

Well, that was at least a greeting, Yvette decided. Not warm, but not a gun. Maybe Ham could be convinced to at least tell her where Hancock was, if only to get her to go away. “For any particular reason, _‘Am_?”

He snorted. “The way Hancock’s been, figured you two were done and you were _long_ gone.”

Yvette blinked. “How he has been?” Done? Long gone? What the _hell_ had he been telling people and what in the hell did he think had happened between them?

“Moody as shit.” Ham shrugged. “Real cranked. Ya know it’s kinda rude, you trying to walk back in like nothing happened.” he rolled his neck; the girl had a good reputation, and it had been a few days since he’d had to really bust someone out the door. Truth-be-told, he was kind of looking forward to it.

She sighed. “Nothing _did_ happen. That is what I am _trying_ to figure out with him.” Yvette rubbed her temples. “Not that it matters, but he walked away _from_ me, not the other way around. Ok?”

Ham pursed what was left of his lips, giving another watery snort. “Sure. Anyway he’s downstairs, but I’m pretty sure he ain’t gonna want your company.”

“You know him better than I do; what can I do to try to change his mind at least on that?” Yvette asked, trying to keep her posture relaxed. Ham was a solid bouncer, and if Hancock had told him something desperately, heart-breakingly romantic, he was probably ready to toss her all the way outside of Goodneighbor.

Pulling a battered pack of cigarettes out of his jacket, Ham mulled over whether or not to answer. On the one hand, Hancock had been a moody bastard for the past three weeks and it was starting to put everybody on edge. On the other hand, this little chippy had managed to break Hancock’s heart; whatever she’d done or not done or said or not said had to be _bad_. Ham banged the pack against his lips until a filter popped out, nabbing it and dropping the pack back in his coat. He fished for his matchbook, all the while eyeing her. She was pulling a face but she wasn’t yelling or threatening to swing on him; trying to play cool he guessed, as he struck the match against the gate and lit his cigarette. The one thing in her favor was that Magnolia liked her; a whole lot, considering she’d sat down and had another drink with the chippy after they had their One Night. And Magnolia had a pretty decent read on people; she’d said before that if that girl walked back in and asked for Hancock, to stay out of her way and let the two of them work it out. So he had his answer, he guessed. “Turn around, go get a dress, and put it on. Get prettied up, then offer to buy him a drink. Could be expensive but.” Ham shrugged.

That wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting; Hancock was acting--at least at the moment--like other boys and girls she’d known, when the world wasn’t blown to hell. It was kind of funny. “Alright. Thanks for the advice _‘Am_. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I wouldn’t have told you shit…except Miss Magnolia’s real fond of you, for some reason.” he pointed out.

Yvette couldn’t help smiling. “Still, thank you…and thank Magnolia for me too, please?” She turned away and headed back out onto the street. Maybe Daisy had something to fit the bill…and was willing to sell to her. Goodneighbor was a _very_ tightly knit little haven, she was discovering.

Hancock sat at the bar, hunched down in his coat, running through beer like his insides were on fire and he was trying to put them out. Maybe tonight he’d take the chick with the shaved head up on her offer to do it in the alley; she even had a couple of wrappers on her and said she wouldn’t charge extra to use them. _Christ_ everything sucked and if he didn’t give such a big damn about Goodneighbor, he’d go take a real long trip right now.

“Is this seat taken?”

Hancock froze, hoping like hell it was a buggy Miss Nanny that just said that. He turned slowly, _really_ hoping to see a dinged-up hunk of junk floating behind him. So of _course_ it wasn’t, because his luck was _utter shit_. She was standing there, looking all pink and clean in one of those red shirt-dresses Daisy had around her place. And she was packing it too, holding her arms in tight against her sides to try and keep the two buttons in the middle from popping. Goddamn, he hated his life. Hancock forced himself turn around, flicking his hand in the general direction of the next stool. “I don’t own it.” he mumbled. Things went from bad to worse when she sat down next to him; he could _smell_ her soap, feel a little of her heat because the stools were so close.

“Buy you a drink, maybe?”

He emptied the bottle and dropped it on the bar with a hard thunk. “Why are you here?” Hancock demanded. “Thought I told you it was no big deal.”

“I still do not understand what you mean.” Yvette replied, shifting to try and find a way to hold herself. The only dress Daisy had had that was the cleanest was about three inches too small in the bust; she’d managed to get it on and get to the bar without popping out by hugging herself and slouching down, but it was a fight she knew she’d lose if this little dance went on much longer.

Hancock huffed. “The stuff at the asylum? You bein’ afraid of me now? Ain’t a big deal, cuz you--” his tongue failed. She was sitting there, looking so pretty and so clean and _right there next to him_.

“I am not afraid of _you_ ‘ _Ancock._ If you think that, you are a tremendous fool.” Yvette snapped. “Would you like to know what actually made me so frightened? Why I had to keep looking at you, after what happened with Lorenzo?” she fired off. “Because I will tell you, in as simple a way as I can, so that you will understand me.”

“ _Oh_ , so you’re saying I’m simple huh?” He snapped.

“ _Non_ , I am saying that English is hard and people who speak it first tend to take other people’s mistakes with it very personally, compared to people who didn’t speak it first.” Yvette snapped back, squeezing her toes inside the too-big slip-ons Daisy promised would ‘complete the look’; thankfully she hadn’t been bearing a grudge. Or maybe she had and that’s why nothing was that close to fitting well.

[The truth of things was that there was what there was, and Daisy had loaned out her own shoes for this mission, in solidarity with the gal who could talk 200-year old shop and loved the library like she did.]

He wasn’t sober or stoned enough to keep up with all of that. Hancock turned away, sneaking a couple of Mentats into his mouth and crunching them hastily before turning back towards her. “Alright ‘Vet, hit me with it.” he said as the front of his brain started tingling.

“In that nightmare…I watched you disappear.” Yvette said, trying to hold her voice steady. She had to get him to understand; at least then if he was still mad, they could either work it out or leave on the same field. “I watched your wit, and your humor, and your warmth disappear. It was like watching a body sink into oil. _You_ , _Jean ‘Ancock_ , were gone…and I understood that I could not bring you back. I could not save you.” she took a shuddering breath and felt the center button pop. “ _Merde,”_ she swore under her breath, hunching to pop it back in place and try to get it to stay.

Hancock watched her struggle with the dress, frowning. “Ok?” he said slowly.

Once she was relatively situated, Yvette continued. “I like you. I like to be around you…usually. To…” she stopped, trying to master herself, keep from popping another button or cry, “…I have lost an entire world, _Jean ‘Ancock_ , and it frightens me to my core that what little I have recovered? That I have found? Will be stolen away from me again, and I will not be able to stop that from happening.” This time, Yvette couldn’t keep the whole sob down. It came out as a hiccup, and she looked away abruptly. “I do not want to add you to the tally of things I have lost, and cannot get back. Because…I like you.” She said it to the bottles on the wall because if she looked at him, and he still didn’t get it, or he didn’t care? That would be too big a sting to handle.

Hancock didn’t know what she meant about losing an entire world; maybe that was one of those language things like she’d been talking about earlier? But the tears lighting up her eyes were pretty universal. The sad little hiccup? He could translate that too. “Ok. You like me. I can get with that.” He said, feeling a crick in his neck as his feelings whipped upside-down again. “I’ll take that drink now.”

Yvette nodded, still not looking at him. She tried to flag down Charlie, but he was about as welcoming as Ham had been.

Hancock shook his head, and whistled. “C’mon Charlie--what kind of bartender ignores the pretty girl in favor of the empty seat, huh?”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” the bot groused.

Hancock watched the big optic sensor flex as it passed over him and it passed over Yvette. He gave a little nod; no beef necessary unless it was deeply personal.

Charlie’s glass-washing appendage spun; he got the message. “Well Froggy, what’ll it be?” the bot finally said.

Yvette shook her head, fighting a smile and failing. “How about some wine you haven’t pissed through your Limey still, huh?”

“Eh, sod your mum.” The bot wandered away and came back with a dusty bottle. “No refunds.” he said as he picked up a pair of decently clean glasses from under the bar to set in front of them both.

“Never mind the glasses Charlie; we’re taking this show on the road.” Hancock said, grabbing the bottle around the neck. Charlie would spread the word that all was well and the Vaulter was again _persona grata_ in the neighborhood.

Yvette looked at him, a confused frown on her face.

“As much as I’d love to sit in a crowded bar, watching you fight your clothes and talk at the same time…I got questions that I wanna hear the answers to, and it’s a lot quieter back at my place.” Hancock said, getting off his seat. “And you can change outta that, _I guess_.” he grinned.

“Alright _‘Ancock_.” she said, sliding off the stool carefully. “I appreciate your consideration.”

Hancock snorted, leading the way back upstairs. He took it slow enough she could follow without slipping out of her shoes and headed through the door.

Yvette turned back to mouth ‘thank you’ at Ham before going out the door after him.

Ham lit another cigarette, shaking his head. Just another day in the Neighborhood…

***

It was a little sad she didn’t keep the dress on; Hancock was kind of curious whether or not she could pop all the buttons with a good deep breath. He might still be nursing a little hurt feeling, but he wasn’t dead or blind. After letting the Watch know it was a closed-door meeting and doling out some of the wine, Hancock settled into his seat and took a sip. “Alright. What’s your story?”

Yvette had changed into something more manageable with much fewer buttons, and sat down on the couch across from him, carefully avoiding the edge of the chessboard. She left the glass of wine he poured for her on the coffee table, and sighed. Then she started to talk.

By the end, Hancock had set his hat on the seat next to him so he could worry his forehead and scalp without it in the way; something he really only did when he was pretty well shaken. And it was hard _not_ to be shook; he had a pretty, 200-plus year old living, breathing relic sitting on his couch, talking about missing babies and taking apart the boogeyman’s hit-man. She was desperate, and she was lonely, and for some reason…she _liked_ him. _Cared_ about him. Was terrified of losing him as a _friend?_ Hancock had a lot of friends. Most of them varying levels of reliability, and that usually was directly proportional to the amount of caps and chems he could source. She didn’t really chem, she didn’t really drink, and she could pretty reliably keep herself funded; so what was she getting from him? It was pretty clear that she knew better shots than him: MacCready in the backroom went around with her sometimes, didn’t seem as ready to shoot her as he usually was with people, for instance. Nicky Valentine was a pretty crack shot and didn’t oversleep after a long night of drinking. Even Nosy Piper Wright over behind the Wall had to be better company than a junkie ghoul with great taste in clothing. 

Finally, he managed to get something out of his mouth. “Well…shit.”

Yvette nodded. “Yes. _Shit_.” she leaned forward and finally picked up her glass to drink. “Can we be ok now, _‘Ancock_?”

“Only if you quit calling me Ann-cock.” he said.

Yvette snorted. If he’d gargled a little, she would’ve thought he was making fun of the way she spoke, the way people used to do before everything blew up. Her accent only got the two reactions: ‘oh how sexy’ or ‘oh how stupid’, after all. But Hancock seemed to just be concerned she didn’t actually know his name. “Alright _Jean_. If that’s what you’d prefer.”

Oh holy hell, that was worse than the Ann-cock. Something about that little bit of spice, the way she barely touched the ‘n’…that was going to be a problem in the future. “You know what, beautiful? I think I do.” Hancock said as he finished the last glass from the bottle. He raised it to her in a little mock toast.

Yvette toasted him back with a warm smile.

Oh yeah, she was _definitely_ going to be a problem in the future…

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, what a doozy, right? 
> 
> If I had to lay this on a timeline, it'd definitely be pretty early in my Sole and Hancock's relationship; I'm just going to go ahead and take liberties with the mission timings because my plot demands are way more important than Bethesda's (lol). Apologies for the grossness of the mental-assault dick, but I wanted to be sure to write it in a way that would give YOU every indication that it wasn't actually happening! I'll write some questionable stuff but I can't make myself write Hancock into a monster


End file.
